


Eyeful

by spacehopper



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Clothed/Naked, Coming Untouched, Desk Sex, M/M, Masturbation, POV Outsider, Season 2, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: All Tim wanted was to pay back a favor. One statement out of Jon’s desk, and he’d be on his way.But Jon and Elias seem to have other plans.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 12
Kudos: 137
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Eyeful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winternacht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winternacht/gifts).



Tim could recognize the irony of rummaging through Jon’s desk on a miserable Friday night. Despite what Jon would certainly think, it wasn’t even mildly nefarious. Hell, it was even for legitimate business purposes, not that he thought Jon would believe him. 

Once, he might’ve left a surprise for Jon. Something harmless, maybe a plastic spider, just to make Jon puff up like an angry cat and mutter about workplace decorum. And Sasha would roll her eyes while Tim laughed and Martin pretended to disapprove while hiding his smile in his tea, and they’d all feel better for it, even Jon. 

But now even a plastic spider would be met with true ire, and Martin would ask if it was really necessary, and Sasha would manage to disappear to wherever she went these days. So Tim stuck to business, looking for the statement Laura in Artefact Storage wanted. She’d covered his arse when Elias had cottoned on to his little prank with the screaming head, and he couldn’t skip over the chance to finally pay it back. 

It wasn’t even a hard request, just everything they had about Mikaele Salesa—something about a new acquisition—and Jon had proved resistant to providing one of the recent ones he’d read. He kept saying he was still working on it, like they didn’t all know he spent most of his time muttering at a tape recorder and scribbling suspiciously in a poorly hidden notebook. And sure, the actual stalking seemed to have stopped since they had their little intervention, but that didn’t mean Jon wasn’t just as unpleasantly paranoid as he’d been before. It mostly meant he made a half-hearted attempt to hide it, though Tim was pretty sure it was more because he was afraid of being disciplined by Elias than any true regret. 

Not that it mattered. None of this had to do with Jon, not really. As long as Tim got his hands on the thing, made a copy for Laura, and returned it before Jon noticed, he’d hopefully avoid the dark glances and sharp email from Jon. The one where he pretended he’d actually fire Tim and Tim failed to pretend he believed it. God, he wished it was that easy. It almost made him want to get caught, but he’d rather not deal with the condescending lecture and the creepy way Jon would keep surveying the room, like he expected something to jump out at him any moment. More than once Tim had been tempted to shout ‘boo,’ but he wasn’t sure even he’d find that funny anymore. 

Luckily, the search didn’t take too long. As much of a disaster as Jon was, he at least kept the statements in the same drawer he’d always used, and the one Tim needed was inside a nearly labeled manila folder. An empty folder would probably arouse more suspicion that just the statement, so he grabbed the whole thing, and turned back to Jon’s partially open office door. Easy enough, and then his favor would be paid back. And after that, he could go out, get completely smashed, and hopefully forget about the Institute for the night. 

He was nearly in a good mood when he froze, hand inches from the doorknob. Voices, and fuck, it sounded like Jon. 

His eyes darted around the room, frantic for any place to hide, and landed on a precarious stack of boxes in the corner. Not ideal, but Jon didn’t have a closet and as long as he didn’t look too closely, he shouldn’t be able to spot Tim crouched behind them. The voices grew louder as he quickly shifted the boxes enough so he could kneel, with a small gap that allowed him a view of Jon’s desk. It’d have to do, because as he moved the boxes back into place into an approximation of what they’d looked like before, the door swung open to reveal Jon. 

Tim frowned, and leaned a bit to try and see behind Jon. It’d sounded like there’d been someone else, quieter than Jon, but all Jon did was glance nervously over his shoulder before shutting and locking the door. A really bad sign, if it meant he was planning to stay long. But it might just be another, quieter act of paranoia. Tim really fucking hoped so, because he wasn’t wild about spending his Friday night crammed uncomfortably into this corner. And even if his reasons for being here were completely reasonable, he knew Jon would manage to blow it totally out of proportion, and Christ, he didn’t want to deal with that. 

But his luck was only getting worse. Because as he watched with increasing horror, Jon began to remove his clothes. And not to change, because he didn’t pull new clothes out of his desk, didn’t grab anything to leave. Didn’t even start to work naked, because hey, there were weirder things to do, and it wouldn’t be Jon’s weirdest by far.

No, after Jon had set his clothes aside, he put his forearms onto the desk, and bent over it. 

Maybe, just maybe, Tim could’ve still attributed this to some strange exercise if not for the fact Jon didn’t seem like the sort to get into hippy new age trends, and also, he was half-hard just from doing that. So yeah, it was a sex thing. He supposed it was the buttoned up ones who always turned out to be a little out there, though bending over the desk and doing nothing was a new one. Could be some sort of exhibitionism kink, or maybe he was thinking about all the people out to murder him. Getting off on terror and vulnerability. It’d certainly explain why he was so determined to see enemies everywhere. 

But Tim just couldn’t be that lucky, to get treated to a weird wanking session. Because just when he’d started to hope Jon might get bored and finally do something, his erection beginning to flag, there was the sound of a key in the door. Jon tensed, and Tim’s hands dug into his thighs as he watched, and the door opened to admit the only person Tim wanted to see less than Jon.

Elias.

At first, he had a brief glimmer of hope that Elias might be here to fire Jon. After all, everyone had to have a line, and if Elias’s wasn’t stalking your employees and accusing them of murder, maybe it was office kink. But from Jon’s complete lack of reaction beyond the tension in his shoulders, this was entirely expected. And from the way Elias was looking at him…fuck. 

“Ah, I’d hoped you’d be ready.” Elias came up behind Jon, on the other side from Tim, leaving Tim with a nice clear view of the way Jon’s cock jumped as Elias ran a hand over his arse, fingers digging into one cheek. “Shall we get started, then?”

“Yes,” Jon gritted out, sounding like he was holding back—Tim didn’t even want to know. Some horrible sex noise he never wanted to hear, now or ever again. But apparently he was alone in that ,because as Elias rummaged through one of Jon’s drawers, he pulled out a tape recorder, and hit record. 

“Now, how many do you think this time? You really have been a bit erratic lately.” He gave Jon’s arse a light smack, and this time Tim did get the full audio of what Jon sounded like when he was turned on. Fuck this, this was not his idea of a night out. Though he had to agree with Elias’s assessment; Jon probably could use a good spanking. Not that it seemed to be working, if this was a regular thing. 

“I don’t—” Jon sucked in a shaky breath, and shifted slightly. “I think you should decide.”

“Fair enough,” Elias said, as if Jon had just suggested a minor change to the Archival budget for office supplies, “do you want to count?”

“No,” Jon said, fingers gripping the edge of the desk. “Just— Whatever you think is best.”

“Wonderful,” Elias said. He plucked a paddle out of the bottom drawer, and Tim was only glad it wasn’t something more unusual than that. Tape recorder, maybe a Leitner…who fucking knew, these days. “I’ll begin.” 

He remained of the other side of Jon as he lifted the paddle, allowing Tim to continue his full on view of his boss getting spanked by his boss’s boss. A porno he might’ve enjoyed, if it weren’t his real boss who he was starting to hate, being spanked by his real boss’s boss who wasn’t much better given how little he’d done. Except, apparently, spanking Jon. 

When the first blow fell, Jon cried out. Elias waited a moment, as Jon took in one shuddering breath after another, before letting it fall again. Either arbitrarily, or following some cue Tim couldn’t read. And it turned out the initial cry wasn’t surprise, because if anything, Jon only got louder as Elias continued, the tape recorder catching every sound for whatever kinky shit they were planning to get up to later. Christ, did Elias listen to these in his office? Or maybe they listened to them together, while fucking as Elias critiqued his diction. And he really needed to stop, because this whole thing was bad enough as it is.

Given how regimented Elias was, Tim had expected him to set a rhythm, but he seemed to delight in leaving Jon wrong-footed, and Jon certainly didn’t seem to object, if his noises and cock were anything to go by. There’d be a flurry of strikes, so fast they left Jon sobbing, and then Elias would stop, letting almost a minute drag by before striking again, and then another minute, and then another. During these breaks, he’d sometimes run his fingers over the reddened skin, whispering words of meaningless praise that hit Tim with all the force of the paddle. To see Elias treat Jon like this, a full on view of why he got away with everything…fuck them both. And not like this.

All through it Jon made no sound but moans and whimpers, entirely obedient in a way Tim really didn’t associate with him. Maybe he should’ve tried spanking. But then, maybe it was only middle-aged bureaucrats that did it for Jon. Given the office setting, it seemed like it was part of the kink. 

Even as Jon’s reactions intensified, Elias remained clothed, though from his response and the outline in his trousers, it didn’t seem like he was entirely unaffected. There was a delight in his smile Tim had never seen before, and really would be fine never seeing again. He was already doomed to a lifetime of awkward sex dreams about this, he didn’t need more detail. 

Especially since as the process continued, he found it increasingly difficult to distract himself. It wasn’t like he wanted to get off on his unintended voyeurism, that he had any interest in the way Jon squirmed, the way Elias whispered sweetly to him and petted his hair. But he also didn’t want to close his eyes, to get taken unawares. And even if he had, the noises Jon was making…well, they were starting to get to him. He shifted uncomfortably, palming himself through his trousers to try to take a bit of the edge off, but it wasn’t doing much. After a moment’s hesitation, and a particularly loud moan from Jon, he opened his fly, and pulled his cock out of his underwear. It wasn’t like it could get weirder, was it?

Still, he felt a surge of shame as he wrapped his hand loosely around his cock, not yet moving it as his eyes returned to Jon’s shaking form. Jon’s own cock was still untouched, beaded with precome, and from the noises he made, he had to be close. And Elias clearly saw it too, a positively lecherous smile crossing his lips as he gave Jon’s already reddened arse a particularly hard smack, and then another. Then to Tim’s surprise, he set the paddle aside, and began a flurry with his hand, adjusting his position in no discernible pattern as Jon’s cries heightened. Until he stopped again.

In a move Tim could only describe as disgustingly tender, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the small of Jon’s back, before picking up the paddle once more. Brushing it against the inflamed skin lightly, and then lifting it, bringing it down hard one final time.

And then Jon came, moaning into his desk, his come splattering drawers Tim would never be able to touch again without remembering this. Really, the whole office was forever changed. It was a good thing Martin was already inclined to help keep the uncomfortable peace, because he was going to need him more than ever. Especially since Jon remained where he was, taking one shuddering breath after another while Elias opened his own fly, and freed his rather impressive cock.

It was another thing Tim didn’t want to know, another thought he didn’t want to have. To wonder what it’d be like, all these details burned into his mind, as his hand tightened around his cock, and his mouth went dry. Watching as Elias pulled out a bottle of lube, slicking himself before pushing immediately into Jon. Even completely fucked out, Jon stayed as mouthy as ever, though his cries now were interspersed with Elias’s name, something the kinky bastard rather enjoyed if his smile was anything to go by. Jon had to be an overstimulated mess, but he seemed to be happy to take Elias, as happy as he’d been to take the protracted spanking, pushing back into him even as he whimpered when each brutal thrust that went deeper and deeper. 

Slowly, Tim began to stroke his own cock, speeding up to match Elias’s rhythm. Biting back his own cries, his own startled ‘fuck’ when he saw that Jon was already getting hard again. Still, Elias failed to touch him, not even letting him get any relief from rubbing against his desk, hands going to Jon’s hips to pull him closer to Elias, and away from any relief. But Jon seemed to take it in stride, another thing that made Tim certain this wasn’t a new thing, wasn’t some hastily organized workplace fuck. They’d been doing this for a while. Had they already been fucking when Jon was promoted? It’d certainly explain a lot. It definitely explained why he hadn’t been fired yet.

Fury flared, but it did nothing to stop his own movements. If anything, his desire intensified as the guilt diminished. After all, why should he give a fuck about their privacy? They certainly didn’t give a damn about his. If he got off to their kinky office sex, it was only just desserts. And sure, he’d feel like shit after. But he’d feel like shit regardless. So why deny himself a moment’s shameful pleasure?

Elias shuddered, holding Jon suddenly still as he slammed into him once, twice, and finally seemed to come. No longer unaffected, his face flushed and his hair in disarray as he held himself there for a moment, even as Jon tried to move back into him, his own cock hard and leaking again. 

Then Elias pulled out, as Jon let out a whimper of loss Tim felt, his own cock throbbing in his hands, still hard, still not there as Elias sat down in Jon’s chair, and pulled Jon into his lap. Kissing him passionately, all while Jon clung to him. But still avoiding his cock. Tim had no such hangups, no investment in whatever this was, giving his cock a particularly brutal tug, and spilling onto the floor. After a brief hesitation while Elias and Jon murmured sweet bullshit to each other, Tim wiped it up as best he could with his sleeve. Given this display, there was a good chance Jon might assume it was from him or Elias, but better safe than sorry. 

“Elias, please,” Jon said, struggling in a way that was clearly for show as Elias turned him in his lap, facing him towards the desk and leaving his cock on proud display. 

“Jon, you know how this works. You’ll just have to wait until I’m ready again.” 

“I really don’t see why.” The way he said it was horrifyingly reminiscent of how he’d dismiss Sasha’s suggestions for organization, or Martin’s tentative questions about lunch. “After all, I’ll be ready again whenever you are anyway.” He squirmed in Elias’s lap, making Elias gasp quietly, while Tim repressed a groan as he realized what this all might mean. He really hoped they took round two elsewhere. 

“Because you like it that way.”

Elias pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, and Jon sighed, far more compliant than Tim had ever seen him. He reached for the top drawer of his desk, and pulled out a stack of neatly typed papers, and was rewarded with a brush of Elias’s fingers along his cock. Though reward might be the wrong word, given Elias immediately pulled back. 

“Fine. If you really want to hear how we’ve updated the way we file disproven statements, then I can do that. Though I really don’t see why you need to hear it in person. I told you, I could just email—” The words were cut off with another moan as Elias brushed Jon’s cock again. 

“This is more fun, don’t you agree?” Elias laughed softly, and nipped at Jon’s ear as Jon squirmed, and flipped the page. 

“If you say so,” he said, sounding absolutely breathless and utterly fucking into it. Tim was so, so fucked. “Given the issues with Sasha’s computer, and Tim—well, the less said the better—I’ve tasked Martin with working out a new system.” 

The flare of anger at his own dismissal slowly died as Jon continued to drone on, interrupted by breathy moans as Elias teased him, clearly intent on keeping him on edge until whenever they managed their second round. While also interjecting his own thoughts on whatever overcomplicated system that Jon was intent on, because of course he could still pay attention to that. It was probably part of the kink. 

When the time finally came, it was almost a relief to see Jon straddle Elias’s lap, to take his own cock in hand again. Stroking himself and watching as Jon came with a cry, all while Elias continued to fuck him. Until Tim followed him shamefully over the edge, finally looking away so he didn’t have to watch Elias press an adoring kiss to Jon’s brow, or the uncharacteristically soppy smile Jon rewarded it with. And this time, he didn’t even bother to try and clean up his own mess. 

He stayed like that for a bit, listening to them clean themselves up, Jon grumpy and Elias amused. They talked about dinner plans, and some new book Jon was reading and apparently hated. It was so much worse than Tim could’ve feared, so much worse than an office fuck. Even after they were gone, all he could do as the minutes ticked by was slump against the wall, and wonder how he’d ended up here.

And then, he laughed. Not even caring if there were cameras or tape recorders or if anyone fucking heard. It wasn’t funny at all, except in how stupidly mundane it was. Illicit kinky sex, meaningless except for how it was so much worse than that. And when the laughter stopped, he was left with nothing. Not sure what he’d do with what he saw. Not sure if there was anything he could do. Only knowing that there was no way he’d forget this.


End file.
